


Special Considerations

by merlywhirls



Series: Friends In Holy Spaces [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bipolar Bokuto, M/M, add trans noya, autistic suga, chronically ill daichi and tanaka, deaf/hoh hinata, non-verbal kageyama, socially anxious asahi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5176721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlywhirls/pseuds/merlywhirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sugawara Koushi VS the exam period and the socially acceptable way of dealing with (pretty) crying strangers.</p><p>warning for casual ableism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Considerations

**Author's Note:**

> >Only Suga and Daichi's disabilities are made explicit. There are hints/indications for the other characters' disabilities but as they are not central to the story, are not named. I am, however, heavily considering continuing this as a series so there will be a chance that they will appear again as central characters!
> 
> >All comments made by 'the woman' (i didnt assign a canon character to her bc, honestly, all of the haikyuu!! characters are too pure to play this character) are actual near-direct quotes of things said to me by my disability advisor and examiner.
> 
> >Aka story based on real events, where I don't know what to do when I see a girl close to tears before our exam but I wanted to do /something/. I hope you did okay, crying girl. This fic is dedicated to you.

Suga had been granted special consideration.

He wasn’t exactly informed what this special consideration entailed, just that he had it, and just that his exams would take place in a separate building from the rest of his class. This was all his caseworker at the university told him too, his appointment edging so close to home time that she was rushing through his problems, eager to see the back of him.

He received an email about his special consideration, detailing where he was to go but with still no further explanation as to what that was being considered, exactly, and so was therefore quite surprised that there were other people lining up outside the classroom where Suga would be taking his exam.

He suddenly became very glad that he brought Asahi, even though the giant man was just as nervous in the crowd as Suga was.

“I didn’t expect this,” Suga told him, jumping up on his tippy toes to tug on Asahi’s sleeve. “There are _people_.”

“Yes,” Asahi replied quite nervously. “There most certainly are… people.”

“I thought, with exam conditions being a problem for me and everything, that there would not be people when I’m taking my exam. Because now it definitely feels like an exam.”

Suga ran the list over in his head again, _pencil, eraser, calculator, student ID card, a bottle of water_ , lining up each item on the table in front of him as he confirmed that he’s got them. He had to make a mad dash to the stationery shop on campus before going to the exam room, having forgotten to bring a pencil from home.

“Hm,” Asahi hummed. “Maybe there will be less people?”

Suga couldn’t exactly tell how many people were there for the same room he was, the whole floor crowded with students cramming last minute for their exams. A group of students stood by the door for the classroom over, all huddled over a single sheet of paper as they quizzed each other before entering.

The people closest to Suga were all very quiet, shuffling around nervously but sometimes smiling to each other. The exception was one small boy jumping around excitedly, the armpits of his tank top so low that Suga could see the edges of crescent scars on his ribcage, talking to a taller boy beside him.

“I was studying, right,” he was saying, “But then I found this Wikipedia page about German submarines and it kinda just went from there. Did you know that a German type 212 submarine weights 1,830 tonnes underwater? And it’s got this torpedo called a _Seashake_ , which is a wicked name, but it’s performance data is classified. Classified! But considering Pakistan and Spain are using it too, I reckon it’s gotta be pretty decent and – Tanaka! Are you listening?”

“Did you even study at all, Noya?” The taller boy – Tanaka – sounded amused, if slightly exasperated, running his hand over his shaved head.

“Yes!” Noya threw his arms in the air, waving them around. “A little!”

“How much?”

“An hour!” He dropped his arms, fingers pressed to his lips in concentration. “Or was it half an hour? I don’t know, actually. But that’s alright! I’ll just wing it.”

Suga smiled at the interaction, feeling like he was on the same boat (or submarine) as Noya. He had hardly studied either, finding it too boring compared to watching television. He was confident enough that he could at least pass from whatever he remembered of the material.

He took notice of the solid figure standing beside Asahi, apparently not worried by his intimidating form, but glancing over at Suga every now and then with a sheen in his eyes.

“Did you study?” Asahi asked him, apparently also listening in on the conversation and wanting to embarrass Suga.

“Sure.” Suga flapped his hands. “Hey, are we still going out to eat tomorrow?”

Suga looked over to the guy standing beside Asahi, his blue eyes still looking dangerously wet.

“Don’t change the subject.” Asahi drew his attention back in. “Did you study?”

Asahi was the kind of nervous wreck that would forgo sleep in order to study more. Suga was more likely to ignore that studying ever needed to happen and sleep instead. He could tell that his lack of preparation was making _Asahi_ nervous.

“I’ll do fine,” Suga assured him. He glanced over at the Nearly Crying Man and startled when he found he was looking back. Suga quickly averted his gaze, feeling unsettled but also frustrated. The guy was wringing his hands and looking all over the foyer, teary eyes never settling on one thing for too long, his head held slightly up as if to force the tears back inside.

Suga wanted to help, to make sure that he was okay, but his mind came up blank with a reasonable way to do it, and his courage came up blank with the ability to even attempt a plan.

Maybe Suga could say something. But what? _”Hey, you look like you’re gonna cry. What’s up with that?”_

He hardly even knew what to do when Asahi started to get sobby, which he was often, and they had eventually formulated over the years a system where Asahi would get comfort and Suga would know what to do to bring that comfort. And that system was a simple pat on the back.

He couldn’t even think of a way to talk to him without thinking up some negative response:

 _”Hey! Good luck with your exam!”_ And then Crying Man would burst into tears because exams are stressful, he’s so stressed, he’s not going to pass this at all.

 _”So! What course are you in?”_ And then Crying Man would still burst into tears because his course is so stressful, if he fails this exam then he’ll fail his course, and everything is a disaster.

Suga thinks everything relating to communicating to people is a disaster, and it’s not like he was going to improve in that area being friends with someone like Asahi, but then again, that was probably why he was easily able to become his friend.

It was moments like these that Suga cursed his inability to socialise normally with people, real people, everyday people that you encounter in the real world.

Suga felt a growing frustration in stomach as he failed to think up a way to comfort the Crying Man, who was still doing his best to keep the river dammed. Suga admired his willpower.

The classroom door opened, an older woman in a red vest coming out with a sheet of paper and smiling at the small group.

“Alright!” she said. “I remember some faces, those who were here yesterday. Noya! Here, darling, come get your number.”

The excited boy jumped up to her, grinning widely and peering over the page to read his number. Suga felt out of place, wasn’t sure if he was even in the _right_ place now, and that's when Asahi decided he’d make his escape.

“Looks like you’re about to start,” he said, crouching a little to meet Suga’s height. “Good luck!”

“Thanks,” Suga replied meekly, watching his tall, deceptively scary-looking friend leave him all alone among these strangers, including one that was crying.

“Tanaka, here’s your number.”

Suga was beginning to panic a little. So far this woman hadn’t even introduced herself, hadn’t explained what was going on, and _what were these numbers for?_

Suga looked over at the Crying Man, wondering how he was doing among all of this, but Suga found that he looked slightly calmer, just a little shy as he approached the woman.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Daichi, sorry, I didn't see you there, love. You’ve got number one, head on in.”

And then it was just Suga, standing awkwardly near this old woman, as Crying Man, now apparently named Daichi, walked into the classroom. She smiled at him, waiting for him to speak, and all Suga could manage was, “Hi.”

“Hello!” She shuffled up beside him, standing far too close so he could see her sheet of paper. “First time?”

Suga nodded.

“Well, what’s your name and I’ll find you on this list.”

“Sugawara Koushi.”

“And your number?”

Suga balked. A million thoughts rushed through his head, wanting to ask her if she meant his student ID number, or his phone number, or his age, or whatever other number he could possibly provide her, but all he managed to squeak was “UH,” before she’d corrected herself.

“Sorry, sorry, no wait, that’s my job. I give you the number.”

Suga still didn’t know what the number was for.

“Now… Sugawara… Oh, here you are.” She read the small print of information under his name, and sighed happily. “Oh, you’re not so bad. You’re not bad at all. Easy.”

Suga stared at her as she continued, “I just mean, compared to some of the others here. Like the ones on medication.”

Suga could hardly believe what he was hearing, the woman seemingly at ease at this admission, and kept on talking.

“Now, when you go in there, we won’t be making any announcements. You don’t get your time deducted if you start a little bit later, and you can get up and leave whenever you want. You can also eat and drink in there.”

She smiled at him, starting over to the door while pulling a lanyard out of the front of her shirt, swiping the card key to open the door. Suga is about to step in before he turns back to her. “What’s my number?”

“Oh! You’re number two.”

She shut the door quietly behind them, Suga still slightly confused about what the numbers even mean, before just assuming she must mean his seat number.

The desks are long, not singular desks usually used for exams, and the chairs spin around on wheels. There’s only a handful of people in the room, some of them already reading over their exam, and Suga reads the numbers on the table to find his spot.

He’s next to Crying Ma- Daichi.

Daichi doesn’t look up at him as Suga shuffled behind him, already concentrating on the exam before him. Suga can’t quite see his face, but hopefully he’s not crying into the paper.

The spacing is wide enough that Suga wasn’t directly next to Daichi, at least a metre between them, and the woman comes up to Suga to give him the exam.

“Fifteen minutes reading time,” she told him in a whisper.

“Okay,” Suga replied too loudly, immediately pulling his feet up on the chair and resting his chin on his knees, shifting his body so that the chair swayed side to side as he read.

Suga watched the clock carefully. He surveyed the room, studied each of the items on the front desk where the woman sat. There was a big bottle of water, plastic cups, dry biscuits, pens, pencils and erasers, stacks of paper…

Suga shook his head. He had an exam. He had to concentrate reading the exam…

Except fifteen minutes had passed by now. He chewed on his sleeve, still swiveling in his chair, reading the analogue clock on the wall carefully. Yes, it definitely had been fifteen minutes, unless Suga was reading it wrong, then it was either twenty minutes. He hadn’t been told he could write yet, but watching the woman at the front desk who didn’t look like she was getting up any time soon, and glancing around the room to everyone else writing, Suga thought he’d risk it.

*

Suga finished his two-hour exam in thirty minutes. He was either a genius, or a drop out.

Suga liked to stay on the side of optimism, and opted for genius. He already had so many people tell him that _people like him_ are so smart.

He thanked the woman three times as he left early. He doesn’t really know why, considering she hadn’t exactly been the best of help, but his mother taught him manners first and foremost. Sometimes it was all Suga had in his arsenal of conversation skills.

He messaged Asahi to let him know he was done, but Asahi was still cramming for his last minute studying, and Suga didn’t fancy sitting in the library watching Asahi stress over renaissance paintings.

All the way home, his head attentively turned to the window to ignore the passengers of the busy bus, Suga thought about Daichi, and hoped that he did well on his exam.

*

Asahi couldn’t come with him the next time, and so Suga fidgeted restlessly outside the same classroom, around forty-eight hours later, feeling dread pool in his stomach.

He hadn’t studied for this exam, and he didn’t know anything about the course material, and if Asahi was here he would probably be screaming too.

Suga wondered if someone was going to dub him the Crying Man this time.

There were a few different faces this time, an orange haired boy who grinned too much and kept bouncing around, making hand gestures at another, gloomily silent boy. Suga watched as the silent boy made the same hand gestures, and _oh_ that’s what they were doing, sign language, Suga knew that.

From what little knowledge Suga had of sign language, he’s pretty sure the silent boy just told his companion to shut up.

Leaning up against the wall in the same spot he was the other day, Daichi looked considerably better than what he did, dry eyed and watching the orange boy interestedly.

The woman came out again, her sheet of paper held dutifully in her hand, as she scanned through the list and smiled at the familiar faces.

Except Suga’s. She seemed to have forgotten who he was, momentarily.

“First time?” she asked, just like she had the previous time, and Suga shook his head.

“Sugawara,” he told her blandly and she ruffled through the sheets.

She made a sound of surprise when she found his name, turning to him with a smile. “That’s right, I remember now. You’re just taking the regular exam. It’s quite rare for people like you to able to write so fluently, we get so many students taking alternative exams.”

“Right.” Suga’s voice was flat, not the usual chime he practiced so hard to inflect. “Because I’m one of the easy ones.”

The woman nodded absently, patting his arm and telling him he was in seat number two again.

She was swiping her key card when a voice shouted down the corridor, students laughing at the flailing figure coming down. Suga was quite frightened, this massive owlish man (boy? he seemed to have the air of a child) came running down and stopping in front of Suga and the woman.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he said. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m late, I know.”

“I expected it, Bokuto,” the woman told him, swiping her key card again to open the door and let them in.

Daichi was already writing again, pushing in his seat so Suga could get past more easily. Suga smiled at him awkwardly before retreating inside his hoodie, sleeves over his hands and hood thrown over his head. He considered drawing his knees up to his chest and pulling the material over his legs, but he figured that would just look a little _too_ depressing.

Suga was going to fail this exam.

Was this how Daichi felt two days ago? Suga certainly felt how Daichi looked the other day, clinging to the edge of ‘fine’ and stubbornly not giving in to the tears. Suga has cried in many places, even in exams, but he didn’t want to do it here, especially since these conditions were meant to make things better for him.

What does he want, right now, as he’s about to break down in the middle of an official exam? He wants hot chocolate and play dough to squish in his hand, or for his rabbit to sit on his lap. None of those things involved another person, unless they were making the hot chocolate, and he can’t see any of those required items on the woman’s front desk.

He definitely didn’t want someone to ask him how he was. Maybe not approaching Daichi last time was the best choice.

But, also, he wasn’t Daichi. And Daichi isn’t him. They wouldn’t want the same things, right? Risking a glance, Suga could see that Current Daichi was happily going about his exam, not a tear in sight. Suga took in Daichi’s broad shoulders, hunched over the desk, and his stern face set in concentration. That determination was there before he had entered the room, Suga noted, only contradicted by his surprisingly gentle eyes.

Maybe if Daichi was the one to ask, Suga would be alright with answering how he was. Daichi looked, _felt,_ like someone he could trust.

But why Suga was still contemplating the situation when it had been forty minutes into the exam and he still hadn’t written a single word? Why was he still thinking about Daichi?

He turned the page over in his exam booklet, reading the next set of questions and feeling his entire body fill with dread. He felt like a heavy weight right now, wondering how the chair was still supporting him under the burden.

Suga could hardly process anything anymore, having read the same question several times without making any sense of the words. All he could think was _no, no, no,_ a ringing in his ears he knew from experience to be panic.

Suga raised his hand shakily, waiting impatiently for the woman to acknowledge him. She spotted him eventually, rising from her seat to come over.

“All done?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Suga breathed, this time a little too quiet for her to hear.

She took the exam booklet, flipping through the pages with a frown on her face. Suga could feel the embarrassment burning in his cheeks, but he was also desperate to just get out of there.

“You haven’t answered anything,” she said. Suga nodded in acknowledgment. “You still have time, why don’t you just keep going?”

Suga shook his head. “No, I don’t know any of this. I’m done.”

“You don’t know _any_ of this?”

“No,” Suga said stubbornly. He couldn’t tell over the sound of his mind telling him to _get out of there_ if he was being too loud or not. Suga decided he didn’t care.

“How do you not know?” _Because I’m an idiot._ “Have you had trouble in this subject this year?” _Yes, I hate it and don’t want to do it._ “Why didn’t you ask your tutor for help?” _Because it literally did not occur to me, and if it did, I still wouldn’t do it._

Instead, Suga shrugged, rose from his seat, and left.

*

The foyer was blissfully empty.

Suga felt too paralyzed to leave on his own, didn’t know if he’d be able to function going home on the bus himself. He messaged Asahi to tell him he was finished, to come meet him when he was done. Suga couldn’t remember if Asahi’s exam was still going, or if he’d gone home by now. Either way, Suga would wait for a reply.

He pulled out a balloon filled with rice from his pocket, big enough to fit in the palm of his hand and squeeze. Asahi had drawn geometric shapes on the balloon, coloured in with Sharpie that was visually pleasing to Suga. He tried hard to concentrate on the colours, on the patterns and the feeling of the rice in the rubber, feeling himself fall into a calm trance before being jolted out by the loud opening of a door.

Suga’s head snapped up, back to his original state of panic, looking headlong into the gentle eyes of Daichi. Suga quickly looked away.

“Hey,” a voice echoed through the foyer, commanding but friendly that Suga couldn’t help but raise his eyes, staring at Daichi through his eyelashes and a sheet of grey hair. “Are you okay?”

There was a beat of silence before Daichi quickly added, “Wait, wait! That’s a stupid question. Obviously not. But – ah, shit, can you hang on?” Daichi’s face was screwed with pain, a weak smile gracing his features. “I gotta go just for a sec but I’ll be back, okay? Just hang on tight.”

Suga couldn’t tell if that last bit was meant to be for him or Daichi, but then the larger man was gone from Suga’s line of sight and down the corridor.

Suga waited. Asahi hadn’t replied yet and Suga’s anxiety still hadn’t subsided. Who knew, maybe this calmly intense stranger _could_ make him feel better, not that any stranger had managed to do that before.

There was just something about Daichi that Suga trusted. He still couldn’t quite place the feeling, couldn’t understand why he would instinctively trust someone like this, especially considering his life was a giant game of Avoid All Strangers.

Maybe it was because Daichi was cute. Suga had noticed this the first time he saw him, even if he did look like he was going to cry. Suga liked to think he wasn’t a shallow person, but he also wasn’t a blind one, and Daichi the Crying Man was _attractive_ , to the point where Suga would feel embarrassed just looking at him for too long.

Time was a blur, an hour or two seconds passing before Daichi returned, kneeling in front of Suga and smiling gently.

“Bad exam?” he asked. Suga could only bring himself to nod. “Yeah, I’ve been there. Studying is hard and boring. But it’s alright. One exam isn’t the end of the world.”

Right now, Suga wouldn’t mind the world coming to an end. But that was just him.

“I’m Daichi,” he finally said.

“I know,” Suga blurted, before quickly shutting his mouth. “Suga,” he offered weakly after a moment.

Daichi looked a little surprised, but then smiled and sat back on his heels. Suga pointed to the classroom, tilting his head in question and waiting for Daichi to understand what he was asking.

“You want me to go?” Daichi asked. Suga shook his head. “Uh… Oh, my exam? What about my exam?” When Suga nodded Daichi continued, “I’m nearly done, just needed a bathroom break. Plus, uh, I could see you through the window. You looked distressed and um… Am I doing okay? Or am I being weird?”

But Suga didn’t reply to his questions. “You can see me from the classroom?”

“Yeah, only from where I’m sitting, though. No one else can.”

Suga slumped back, fingers digging into the balloon still in his hand. He squeezed the rubber, feeling each grain of rice individually and counting. Once he got to ten, he opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them in the first place.

Daichi was still there, which surprised him. The creases between his brows, Suga couldn’t tell if it was concern, anger or frustration. He was usually good at this, but his processing was slowing down, and _damn it_ Asahi still hadn’t replied.

“Angry?” Suga asked.

His brows furrowed even further, a panic shooting through Suga. _Angry, definitely angry, and I’ve made him angrier-_

“Huh?” Daichi’s mouth hung open. “Me? I’m not angry. Why would I be angry?”

Suga pointed to the classroom door again, jabbing his finger for emphasis as a big sigh escaped him, taking his hand back to drag it over his face tiredly.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Daichi said again. “I can finish it whenever. They’re super relaxed about that stuff. Is someone coming to get you?”

Suga said, “A friend is coming.” Maybe. Asahi still hadn’t replied.

Suga checked his phone again. He had only been sitting out in the foyer for seven minutes. Suga grumbled.

“Would you like me to wait with you?” And before Suga knew what he was doing, he was nodding and Daichi was slowly dragging out a chair beside him.

“Would you like me to talk?” Daichi asked after a beat of silence. Suga thought, wondering when breathing became just that little bit easier, and decided to speak instead.

“The other day,” he started, trying to form the next few words he wanted to say. What was important was that he had Daichi’s attention, that Daichi knew Suga was thinking and not just ignoring him.

Daichi sat silently as Suga ran practice sentences through his head, finally speaking slowly. “The other day, at the other exam we had together, you also looked distressed.”

Suga was finally going to find the answer to what the right response to seeing someone close to tears in public was.

Daichi waited a bit for Suga to continue, but when he realised he was finished hummed in agreement. “I was in pain,” he said.

“Should I have talked to you?” Suga asked. He didn’t, rather, couldn't, look at Daichi right now. Usually disembodied voices were extremely distressing to Suga, uneasy with being unable to see the speaker. But right now it was easier to pretend this was a make believe conversation, one of those practice conversations he would do with his mum before going to the grocery store or making an appointment.

“Hm. I wouldn’t say ‘should have.’ At that moment, it would have been a nice feeling. You know, someone taking concern. But if it would have been weird for you, then don’t sweat over it.”

“I wanted to,” Suga said. He watched the outlines of the rice grains straining against the rubber as he squeezed the balloon, watched his long nails dig make imprints, watched his sleeve fold over his knuckles and engulf his hand. He watched everything but Daichi as he said, “I just didn’t know what to say.”

“’Are you okay?’” Daichi offered.

“You obviously weren’t, though.” Suga glanced over at Daichi. “It would have been a pointless question. You clearly weren’t alright.”

Daichi shrugged. “It’s still just what you ask. Like, how I asked you before.”

“But you even said yourself, that it was a stupid question.”

“But it was my first response. It just lets the other person know you’re concerned. Sometimes, even that is enough.” Daichi paused, turning his body in the chair to face Suga. “Would you like to ask now?”

“Are you okay?” Suga asked, sounding more confused about Daichi’s suggestion than whether Daichi was actually alright or not.

“My head really hurts, which caused me to be sick in the toilet,” Daichi replied honestly.

“Oh, my God.” Suga turned to face Daichi, who was smiling. “Are you alright?”

Daichi laughed, and when Suga realised what he said, he laughed a little too. A buzzing in his pocket told him that Asahi had finally answered, and just clicking the screen to read the preview message knew that Asahi was on his way from the other side of campus.

“I’m fine,” Daichi assured him. “Used to it by now. My whole body was aching the other day, and I had stayed up all night studying. Wasn’t the best combination.”

“No kidding,” Suga said. “What’s wrong with you?”

He didn’t mean for it to come out that way, as if Daichi was some fool, but the sound of Daichi’s laughter again told him he didn’t say anything bad.

“Lupus,” he said simply. “Also, generally being a student who can’t look after himself.”

Suga nodded in understanding. “I stayed up until four in the morning watching Iron Chef. I mean, it’s not quite studying all night, but it was still… tiring.”

“Iron Chef,” Daichi said deadpan.

“Yeah,” Suga smiled, turning to face Daichi finally. “I’m really into cooking shows, lately. I couldn’t watch Hell’s Kitchen, though. There was too much tension. Great British Bake Off was good, even if I couldn’t understand what they were saying half the time…”

Suga stopped himself before he started rambling about his favourite dishes, but Daichi looked honestly interested. That was unusual.

“Can you cook?” Daichi asked.

Suga’s laugh spat out of him unexpectedly. “Absolutely not. Well,” he paused, fingers on lips. “I can do pancakes. I like making pancakes.”

“You’ll have to make me pancakes one day, then.”

Suga brightened. “Okay. I will.” He liked cooking for other people, more than he liked cooking for just himself. He would usually hang around his mum asking if she wanted something to eat before she told him that she’d eat whatever he wanted to make.

His mother ate a lot of pancakes. She’d be relieved that someone else was offering to take that duty.

He hardly noticed Asahi approaching them, too rapt up in when, where, and _how_ he was going to make Daichi pancakes when he hardly even knew the guy, only brought back by a light tapping on the back of his hand.

“Asahi,” Suga greeted. His friend had a strange expression on his face, one Suga had learned to mean he was being shy. Daichi’s presence was probably causing this, and Suga knew Asahi wouldn’t say a word in front of him until Suga had either introduced them or Daichi left.

Suga didn’t want Daichi to leave, but he figured he should probably let him get back to his exam.

“Let’s go home,” Suga said and Asahi nodded. He turned back to Daichi. “Thank you for sitting with me.”

“That’s okay! I’m glad I was helpful. If I was helpful. Was I helpful?”

“Very.” Suga gave him a weak smile, shyly scuffing the toe of his shoes on the floor. When he finally looked up, he was floored by Daichi’s bright smile.

“Excellent,” he said. “Hey, I’ll give you my number. So you can tell me when you’ve made pancakes.”

He pulled a pen from his back pocket, searching through his other pockets for a scrap of paper before Suga held out his right hand. Daichi took it, his fingers hardly skimming Suga’s skin as he held it still to write. Suga’s usual response to pull away didn’t kick in, just a jittering in his stomach at the gentleness Daichi was expressing in his hold.

Suga could practically feel Asahi’s questioning gaze burn into him, and knew he would have to answer for it on the way home. He didn’t look forward to it.

“There,” Daichi said in finality. “You gotta promise me, okay? I expect a lot from these pancakes.”

 _So do I,_ Suga thought.

*

It had been twenty-four hours, and Suga was making pancakes.

Since the conversation with Daichi, it was all he could think about. He had wanted to make pancakes as soon as he got home from his failed exam, wanting nothing more than to succumb to the routine of adding and mixing ingredients, but they didn’t have any flour, and Suga didn’t have the spoons to go out and get it.

He shouted to his mum the next morning as she was leaving for a quick grocery run that they needed flour, and then here he was, making pancakes.

Daichi’s number was still inked on the back of his hand.

He had already entered it into his phone, and written it down in his address book just to make sure, but he was still reluctant to wash it from his hand. He could remember the smooth ball of the pen rolling over his skin, Daichi’s light fingers keeping Suga’s hand still. It had been nice, Suga decided, wondering what holding hands with Daichi would be like.

It’d be warm, he also decided, but he had no idea how to reach that point. When he told Asahi this problem, his friend had replied, “Maybe pancakes would be a good start.”

So Suga was making pancakes, in his home, in his pyjamas, holding his phone in his hand and wondering if it was far too soon to message Daichi to tell him he was making pancakes.

Would he look desperate? Too excited? Over eager? Clingy? Suga had never done this before. What did Daichi want, exactly? Friendship? Suga could do friendship. He wouldn’t mind something other than friendship, maybe, if Daichi wanted it too. Not that Suga would ever ask.

Regardless, friendship would be a good starting point, anyway. Pancakes and friendship, two things that Suga could handle well enough.

His thumb hovered over the send button.

_I’m making pancakes. I don’t live far from campus, if you’re not busy.  
It’s Suga, by the way._

He hit send, and the reply was almost instantaneous.

_-Not busy at all. What’s your address?_

Suga smiled, flipping his current pancake over in the pan. This meant he would have to get dressed now, should probably run a comb through his hair and tie it up. Usually this would be a chore. Now, Suga wasn’t bothered.

_-I’ll be over soon. I look forward to it!_

Strangely, Suga thought, so was he.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes, please! I'm having trouble reading and processing words lately. Also, tenses. Tenses fuck me up.


End file.
